Reckless Love

by Madeline Baker

  Joshua fought heavily, his feet moving as though weighted down with lead. Anger and fear spoiled his judgment and ruined his aim. Once, when Shadow pulled back, Joshua looked at me, his blue eyes mirroring his despair.

  "He knows," I thought sadly. "He knows he can't win."

  I bit down hard on my lower lip as the fight went on and on. Shadow was toying with Joshua, and it was a cruel and terrible thing to watch. Joshua's blade lashed out again and again, and each time it sliced harmlessly through empty air. Tears of rage and frustration glistened on Joshua's cheeks as he tried to break through Shadow's defenses.

  Shadow's smile was ruthless as he lunged forward and dragged the edge of his blade across Joshua's right cheek, cutting through flesh to the bone. A second flick of the sharp blade opened Joshua's left cheek.

  I had wondered why Shadow did not carry a gun, and now I knew. He wanted to kill Joshua slowly, wanted to feel the blade of his knife slice into flesh, wanted to feel Joshua's blood on his hands.

  Tears welled in my eyes as I watched Joshua grow steadily weaker, slower. He seemed to be bleeding from every part of his body, and still he fought, his hatred giving him strength and endurance when he should have been defeated.

  Then, in a desperate rush, Joshua hurled himself at Shadow. His arm went up and slashed downward and I gasped as the point of his blade sank into Shadow's back, just above his right shoulder blade. With a low grunt of pain, Shadow twisted sharply to the left and with one swift thrust, he buried his knife in Joshua's heart. For a timeless moment, they stood together, faces only inches apart. Then Shadow jerked his knife free and stepped back.

  Joshua stayed on his feet, swaying slightly, for the space of a heartbeat; then, murmuring my name, he fell face down in the dirt.

  I stared at him, clearly remembering the boy he had been long ago. I remembered how he had courted me, remembered how he had told me his plans for the future, how he wanted to have a spread of his own and raise cattle and horses and a couple of kids. I remembered the day I had told him I was in love with Shadow. I had been sixteen, Josh had been almost twenty. He had been shocked and dismayed but he had promised to keep my secret.

  "I won't tell," he had said. "But you had better think this over careful before you go off and do something you'll likely regret. I . . . I love you, Hannah. I guess you know I'll always be here if you need me."

  I had liked Josh better at that moment than ever before, and now he was dead. Because he had loved me. I began to weep softly. Joshua Berdeen had caused me so much heartache, so much pain and yet, long ago, I had cared deeply for him.

  Shadow's quick intake of breath drew my attention and I ran toward him, tears of relief streaming down my cheeks. He stared at the knife in his hand and then at my bound wrists. The bloodlust was still shining in his midnight eyes as he raised the knife, the same knife that had killed Joshua, and cut my hands free.

  Shadow sighed heavily and I saw pain and weariness wash the rage from his eyes as he tossed his knife aside.

  "Shadow, sit down," I urged.

  With a nod, he sat cross-legged on the ground. Joshua's blade was still embedded in Shadow's back. I looked at Shadow, saw his hands ball into tight fists.

  "Do it," he said through clenched teeth.

  Biting down on my lower lip, I took hold of the knife hilt and pulled the blade from Shadow's flesh, then tossed the knife into the darkness. Tearing a ruffle from my petticoat, I pressed it over the wound to staunch the flow of blood.

  And now, with the fighting over and Shadow safe, my knees grew weak. I must have looked faint, for Shadow drew me down beside him and put his arm around my shoulders.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, his concern evident in the tone of his voice.

  "Fine, now that you're here."

  "Did he hurt you?"

  "No."

  "I cannot blame him for wanting you," Shadow murmured, squeezing my arm. "You are as beautiful and desirable as you were on your sixteenth birthday."

  I smiled faintly. I remembered that day as though it had been yesterday. We had met at the river crossing and our hearts had reached out to one another.

  "Will you be here tomorrow, Hannah?" Shadow had asked, and I had known even then that my whole future rested in my reply. There were a hundred reasons why I should have said no, but they all seemed shallow and unimportant with Shadow gazing down at me, waiting for my reply.

  I had agreed to meet him the next day, and our fives had been entwined ever since. I had never been sorry.

  Now we sat side by side in front of the fire as the flames burned low, our hearts and hands touching, content to be quietly close.

  We buried Joshua beneath a live oak tree, smoothed the dirt so there was no telltale mound, then scattered leaves and twigs over the burial sight.

  "It is all over now, Hannah," Shadow whispered, his lips brushing my cheek. "Nothing, no one, will ever part us again."

  Nothing will ever part us again. I sighed as Shadow held me close, feeling again that wondrous sense of peace and contentment that permeated my very soul whenever Shadow held me in his arms.

  We never spoke of Joshua Berdeen again.

  XXXI

  A persistent knock aroused me from a deep sleep and I woke to see Shadow padding out of our room.

  Rising hastily, I pulled on my robe and followed Shadow to the front door. It was Hawk. Victoria was in labor, he said. Could we come right away? Shadow and I dressed quickly and twenty minutes later we were entering Hawk's cabin. It was solid and well-built, though sparsely furnished.

  Victoria was in the bedroom, her eyes frightened, her face drawn and pale. I bid Shadow and Hawk stay in the parlor, and I went to sit by Victoria. She had been in labor about two hours, and her pains were five minutes apart.

  Victoria smiled weakly as I took her hand in mine. "I didn't know it would hurt so bad," she said, squeezing my hand at the onset of another contraction.

  "Try to relax," I advised. I brushed her hair away from her face, my heart going out to her. Childbirth was rarely easy.

  The time passed slowly. Between contractions, we spoke of Victoria's plans to decorate the cabin, her hopes for the baby, her disappointment that her mother was not present.

  At daybreak, Victoria's water broke and the contractions came harder and faster. Victoria cried out as the pains grew stronger. Her hair and face were damp with perspiration, as was the blanket beneath her.

  "Hawk," she groaned. "I want Hawk."

  "I'll get him."

  My son's face was lined with worry as he followed me into the bedroom. Victoria reached out for him, her eyes begging for relief.

  "Vickie." Hawk murmured her name as he kissed her cheek, his hand stroking her hair and neck.

  "It hurts, Hawk," Victoria said plaintively. "Make it stop hurting."

  She screamed as a pain knifed through her, and Hawk's face went white.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, agitated. "Why is it taking so long?"

  "Nothing's wrong," I assured him. "Most women go through a long labor with their first pregnancy.''

  "But it's been eight hours."

  "It might take eight more," I said so only Hawk could hear me. "Don't let Victoria know how worried you are. It will only make her more tense."

  "Vickie, get on your knees," Hawk urged. "That's how the Indian women deliver their babies."

  "My knees? Vickie repeated dubiously.

  "Try it, Vickie."

  Victoria looked at me, and I nodded. "It can't hurt, and it might help."

  Hawk helped Victoria to her knees, knelt before her for the next half hour, murmuring to her, telling her he loved her, that everything would soon be over. Victoria squeezed his hands when the pains came, squeezed and clawed until Hawk's hands were red and swollen. He did not seem to notice.

  It was just before noon on September 30th when Victoria gave one final push and Hawk caught his son in his hands.

  "Push again, Victoria," I urged, and she dispelled the afterbirth, the
n lay back, exhausted, while I cut and tied the cord and wrapped the baby in a clean blanket.

  Hawk stared in wonder at the tiny, black-haired infant cradled in Victoria's arms, his face aglow with love and pride for his wife and his son.

  I was going to call Shadow when Victoria let out a low groan and then began to writhe in pain. Hawk looked up at me, his eyes dark with worry.

  "What's wrong?" he cried, his voice edged with panic.

  "I don't know."

  Victoria gave a low cry of pain and Hawk and I stared in amazement as a second child made its appearance in the world.

  "Twins," Hawk murmured.

  "Twins," I echoed as I laid the infant on Victoria's stomach. "Vickie, look, you're the mother of twin sons."

  Victoria smiled, the pain forgotten, as I laid the second child in her arm.

  "Twins," I said again, smiling hugely. "I'm the grandmother of twins!"

  "They're beautiful!" Victoria exclaimed, examining each child's fingers and toes. "Just beautiful."

  "So are you," Hawk said. "Thank you for giving me two fine sons."

  "Thank you," Victoria murmured. Her eyelids fluttered down and she was asleep.

  I saw a flicker of doubt in Shadow's eyes when he saw the twins for the first time. The Indians were a superstitious people. In the old days, twins were often taken away and killed. Sometimes a man left his wife, believing the birth of twins signified she had become pregnant by two men and had therefore been unfaithful.

  But the doubt was quickly gone from Shadow's face and he smiled proudly. The boys had straight black hair and dark blue eyes and everyone made a fuss over them, even Blackie.

  The news that Hawk and Victoria had twins spread quickly through the valley, and the women came to help Victoria, cooing with delight over the adorable babies. The men slapped Hawk on the back, declaring that he must be a hell of a man to father twin boys.

  In October, Mary announced her engagement to Frank Smythe. The announcement came as no surprise, and the wedding was set for the following spring.

  In December, just three days before Christmas, Shadow and I were married, just as he had promised we would be. Shadow had wanted us to be married soon after his fight with Joshua, but I had needed some time to pass between that awful day and the day of our wedding.

  I had assumed we would have a small informal ceremony at home, but Shadow had other plans. He got together with Mary and Rebecca and the three of them planned a wedding that would have done credit to the Vanderbilts. Everyone in the valley was invited. Mattie Smythe and a dozen women prepared great quantities of food, Ruth Tippitt baked three large cakes, each one a masterpiece, Mary and Rebecca decorated the church with flowers and white satin bows.

  I wore a white satin gown, complete with a veil and matching slippers. Shadow wore a black suit and tie. It was indeed a rare occasion.

  The strains of the wedding march filled the air as my father walked me down the narrow aisle to the altar. Rebecca, Frank Smythe, Blackie, and Victoria sat on the front pew, their faces shining with love. Rebecca and Victoria held the twins. Hawk stood at the altar beside his father; Mary was my maid of honor. The church was filled with our friends and neighbors, but I had eyes only for Shadow.

  Hand in hand, we stood before the altar. Tears of joy welled in my eyes as the Reverend Thorsen spoke the solemn, beautiful words that made me Shadow's lawfully wedded wife. No words had ever sounded sweeter, or been more welcome.

  "Hannah." Shadow smiled down at me as he lifted the veil from my face. "Long life and happiness," Shadow murmured so only I could hear. ''That was what the hawks promised. Remember?"

  I nodded as I lifted my face for his kiss, and as Shadow's mouth closed softly over mine, the distant cry of a red-tailed hawk echoed in my ears, its exultant cry like a benediction on our love.